Covered in Rain
by Kendarrr
Summary: It has been two years since Quinn Fabray lost and found herself simultaneously. Now that her dreams have been reached, there is close to nothing that is stopping her from achieving what she truly wants: Rachel Berry. Sequel to City Love.
1. Chapter 1

_Umm, hey. I-I'm back..?_

* * *

><p>Quinn Fabray was still her name, and this time, she was so used to introducing herself as so that she has finally forgotten the burden that her name once gave her. No longer was Quinn ashamed to be a Fabray and instead, the way she wore her name can be viewed as pride, that finally, she made something of herself.<p>

She was standing in the gorgeous hall for the annual Time 100 gala. Quinn still found herself overwhelmed by the reception that her stories gathered for her. It's been two years since she typed that final word, since she consulted Anna about it, and since it was published, in print with actual pages recreating her story with every turn of the page. It was all so new, so vibrant, that Quinn had to stop every now and then, to smell the flowers and the familiar scent of the summer-turning-autumn breeze.

"I adore your novels!" Someone tore Quinn away from her moment of humility. Mia Wasikowska came up to her, holding two champagne flutes filled with sparkling drink. She handed one to Quinn who accepted it with a soft thanks. "I have them all and I read them everywhere I go! You're a very inspiring author, Miss. Fabray."

"I-it's Quinn," she replied with a smile. "And I must say the same for you, Miss Wasikowska—"

"Call me Mia," the actress chuckled. "I'll call you Quinn and you'll call me Mia, how about it?"

"Right," Quinn nodded, sipping at her champagne. "I love all of your films, but Alice in Wonderland is one of the best."

"Of course, the all-time favourite." Mia looped her free arm around Quinn's, taking her for a walk around the gallery, waving at other people who were labelled as Time 100's Most Influential. Every now and then, Mia stopped them both to talk to a cluster of powerful figures, introducing them both in the process. By the time they are both done with their champagne, Quinn met Barack Obama, the seventeenth Dalai Lama, David Karp, and more.

"You have to slow down, Mia." Quinn cried, trading her empty flute for another one. "I'm new at this thing, you know. I can't handle meeting the combo breaker president, the Dalai Lama AND the creator of Tumblr in less than half an hour!"

Mia giggled as she snacks on a shrimp cocktail. "You really _are _new at this."

Quinn huffed, looking around the room for the familiar faces she once believed that can only be seen on television or gloss-stained pages in magazines. Standing with these influential people, being considered as one of them… It's all so surreal.

Hazel eyes travelled, only to perform an emergency crash landing against a pair of chocolate brown eyes. Quinn gulped, her stomach lining seemed to melt away, and her heart began to palpitate in a constant rhythm against her chest. It was nothing new. Quinn experienced the same things time and again, every moment she sees Rachel take Broadway—and most recently, television—by a hurricane.

"Wow," Quinn muttered in some form of reverence while attempting to look away, to pass off as nonchalant, but it required too much effort. It was more than a gravitational pull that attracted her to Rachel. Now, it was more of an ache, a crystal glass begging to be filled.

"Quinn? Quinn, are you okay?" Mia asked, tugging at the hem of her sleeve. Quinn did not dare to let go of Rachel's stare, not when it was the only thing that she's been wishing for all this time. "You look like you just saw the Cheshire Cat!"

"I guess I have." Quinn said, wide-eyed. Mia followed the direction of her gaze, beaming upon seeing Rachel. She waved the brunette over, patting Quinn in a semblance of comfort as the singer invaded their three-foot radius. "Rachel."

To say Rachel's name to address her, and not just to fill the expanse left in Quinn's lungs was an exhilarating experience. The way her name rolls off of Quinn's tongue, symbolizing something more than the being of the woman that made her question herself, sent the writer into a standstill.

"Quinn," the singer smiled tenderly, and the instantaneous explosion of emotions within the blonde caused her to stagger beneath its weight. "How have you been?"

"Do you two know each other?" Mia inquired, looking at Quinn then to Rachel.

"Briefly," Rachel supplied when Quinn didn't say a thing. "But lately we've been busy with our own careers." She turned to the blonde who was still watching her in morbid fascination, like an endangered animal. "You're published."

A mere statement of fact. Quinn wondered if she should do the same and it wouldn't be as harmful to anything or to anyone.

"I'll leave you two alone…" Mia sing-sang, but neither woman noticed.

"I am," Quinn nodded. "You're famous."

"I am," Rachel mirrored Quinn's actions. "H-how are you?"

"Better now." Quinn said, smiling. "I'm glad that I'm finally making more than enough to pay the bills but it feels weird. Being recognized for doing what I love."

Rachel grinned and clinked their champagne flutes together. "I get what you're trying to say."

"Of course you do," the blonde's hazel eyes softened. "Singing is your calling and now… Now your voice has inspired kids to join their glee clubs and school plays… Be more involved with the arts."

"It's what I'm born to do. It's the same with you and the things you write." Rachel beamed. "I have your books, you know. All of them."

"All two of them you mean." Quinn grinned, and Rachel bobs her head up and down.

"Hey! Two books in two years? That's a lot!" Rachel grinned, swatting Quinn's arm playfully. She immediately sobered up, the melodious hum of her voice dripped with honesty. "You really are an amazing writer." Rachel murmured. "I said it then, I'll say it now. You're a beautiful woman, Quinn."

They shared two seconds of silence, and Quinn wondered if Rachel was thinking the same thing as she was. When their eyes met, Quinn's desires were reaffirmed. But she dared not speak of it for fear, for caution. Instead she took Rachel's hand in hers, squeezing it. It was as soft as she remembered, but then again, Quinn doesn't remember anything else.

She wondered if Rachel's lips were as sweet, as tantalizing as before.

Quinn hoped so.

Letting go of the silk hand, Quinn caught Rachel's gaze. Soft yet firm, fleeting yet permanent. Another mix of contrasts, just like them. A girl who liked attention and a girl who hid away from it.

Opening up her fingers, Quinn drew away from Rachel with caution. Rachel allowed her, until she didn't. Muscles tensing, Rachel gripped Quinn's hand back into her firm hold. They dropped their empty glasses on to a nearby table and both walked out of the ballroom and into the chill arms of nature. Fingers loosely held each other's; Rachel pulled Quinn into a hug.

"I've wanted to do that since I saw your name all emblazoned in the front cover of World of Glass," Rachel breathed against Quinn's dress, the blonde's arms engulfed Rachel whole, never wanting to let go. "I-I missed you so much, Quinn."

"I miss you too," Quinn laughed against Rachel's thick mass of hair. "You had no idea."

Rachel giggled and pulled away for a brief moment to look at Quinn's face. It felt as if it was the first time that Quinn was seeing the girl in her arms—the girl who held her heart in the very palm that was resting lightly against the small of her back.

Their conversations were light and very general. It occasionally breached the past, but even then it wasn't heavy or depressing. Everything was casual. They found out things about each other that seemed so trifle, and yet it made all the difference in the world, like Rachel's preference of white chocolate over milk chocolate or Quinn's obsession with potatoes. The blonde felt the fuzzy and incessant butterflies in her stomach slowly dissipating, and instead, her gut was filled with comfort—a most welcomed feeling.

Quinn and Rachel shared a limousine together when it was time to go home. Saying goodbye to their influential peers—Quinn still found it absolutely insane to refer to Amy Poehler as a peer—Rachel rode with Quinn back to her apartment. Quinn opened the car door for Rachel, and walked her up to the front of the brunette's apartment building.

"We still need to talk." Rachel said, her voice escaped her in a low rumble that if her diaphragm wasn't pressed against Quinn's, she wouldn't have known that Rachel was speaking.

"I know," Quinn answered with a small nod.

"Coffee and breakfast tomorrow?" the singer asked, and immediately Quinn offered an affirmative. "Good night, Quinn."

Quinn smiled and she lifted up Rachel's hand that was in hers, up to her lips, brushing them against her knuckles delicately. It was a promise as much as a romantic gesture, and when Rachel's cheeks took on a blanket of pink, Quinn knew that her heart was perfect where it was; that her chances with Rachel existed. That was all she could ask for.

"I miss you," Quinn breathed; her lips never left Rachel's knuckles. "I just had to say that again.

Rachel's eyes softened at Quinn's words, a tear wanted nothing more to escape from beneath her eyelids. "Okay…" Rachel sighed. "I missed you too."

Quinn smiled and squeezed Rachel's hand again. "Tomorrow? Breakfast and coffee?"

"Yes, of course! You still have my phone number, correct?"

"I do… You never changed it?" Quinn asked in surprise. She gulped, remembering the nights when she stared at the digits, and Rachel's name. How she would type a sentence or two, watching the cursor blink, before erasing it all to start again.

The singer bit her lip and nodded slowly. "I-I wanted that knowledge—the idea that you can still contact me whenever you wanted. I know it sounds silly but—"

"It doesn't," Quinn assured her. "I have to go; I think our driver is getting impatient." Rachel chuckled and bobbed her head up and down. She paused, turning to Quinn with an inhibited look in her eye. Quinn saw this before—knows that she looked exactly the same way while staring at Rachel with her hazel eyes that longed to never stray.

They were both looking for each other, wanting something, yet cannot have it.

"Good night Quinn." Rachel said, leaning forward to press her lips against Quinn's cheek.

"Good night Rachel," Quinn sighed, her eyelashes fluttering to a close, spreading a butterfly's kiss against Rachel's skin.

/

Quinn arrived at her new apartment, a lesser cramped version of her past home. She stripped off her clothes and laid down on her bed with nothing but a shirt and a pair of shorts. She closed her eyes, replaying the night in her head.

It's been two years since the night she finished her first novel; World of Glass. Two years since Rachel left her, two years since she developed a permanent truce with Charlie. When those days passed by, her life moved in a constant flare of change. Even her feelings for Rachel, they have changed. Not in the way that diminishes, or vanishing into thin air due to her absence.

No, in fact, her love ran deeper, cutting through her with memories she wished to relive every night and day as the ache that Rachel left morphs her into a sadder individual. Now that she's been given a second chance, she grasped it by the throat, never letting it go.

* * *

><p><em>You know, with fanfiction like SHAfD, I still wonder why I bother when I will never, ever be as good as that... But anyways..!<em>


	2. Chapter 2

_I know this is short, and I'm sorry about that. I'm dealing with a few minor things about my life right now, so I hope you'd understand? If not, that's okay too :)._

* * *

><p>The following morning, Quinn was up before her usual moments of awake. She ignored the excitement in her chest when she took her shower, and she took extra time to pick her clothes. Her phone bleeped a message and she lunged for it, relieved that her eagerness was justified. Rachel told her to meet her at the small café along Fifth for their breakfast date.<p>

Quinn gulped at the wording that Rachel used. She decided to ignore it, and instead she rushed out of her building to face her world again.

/

"Good morning, Quinn!" Rachel greeted her with the widest smile. "I ordered for you. Bacon and eggs with coffee, yes?"

Quinn smiled and resisted the urge to dip her head and meet Rachel's smile with her lips. Everything seemed to be a resistance of some sort today. "That's great, thanks."

She watched Rachel sip at her mug in silence as they waited for breakfast. The atmosphere was still, but certainly not stifling. Quinn revelled beneath it by splaying her palm against the rough wooden table. Rachel glanced at the distance between her hand and Quinn's, and so did the blonde.

Neither did a thing about it.

"Have you heard from Kim recently?" Quinn asked Rachel. At the brunette's look of surprise, Quinn rushed to explain. "We haven't exactly spoken since I published my first book."

"That's odd," Rachel said. "We just talked last week. She said she's been in Paris, working with European models." She shook her head, chuckling softly. "I think she's been sleeping with every one of them."

Quinn choked on her coffee and giggled. "That—that is not surprising."

"What about Brittany and Santana?" Rachel asked. "How are they?"

"Got hitched," Quinn replied.

"Oh, no way!" Rachel shrieked, bouncing on her seat in delight. "That's so great! Did you attend their wedding? When was it? I have to congratulate them now!"

Quinn shook her head and patted Rachel's knuckles. "Calm down. I'm sure they'll love to hear from you, but later, okay? Do you even have their number?"

Rachel bit her lip and shook her head. "I was hoping you'd offer it to me in my moment of excitement."

_Ugh, so adorable…_ Quinn rolled her eyes at Rachel's antics. That's when the waiter decided to arrive with their food, and Quinn had to stop herself from drooling. The smell of bacon and eggs wafted into her nostrils, and it made her stomach made a loud noise of agreement at the thought of wolfing down the food in front of her. Rachel chuckled and thanked the waiter, who placed a platter of waffles in front of her. Quinn assumed they were vegan.

"So, how does it really feel to be one of Time 100?" Rachel grinned as she spilled syrup all over her breakfast. "Really, Quinn. When I saw World of Glass on the shelves, I squealed and bought it immediately!"

"Terrified," Quinn said as she swallows a line of bacon. "Of course it's what I always wanted, but a part of me wants to go back to the time when I am unknown and no one would care about what I want to say. Now, everyone jumps at the mention of a short story of mine." She watched Rachel who was smiling as she chewed. "Honestly, it feels great."

As they talked about Quinn's career, the blonde lost herself in the sound of Rachel's tinkling laughter, the way her voice dipped and swelled, like the notes of the song that's been muted in Quinn's heart. Muted and silenced, because the singer was gone. Since she's back, well… the speakers in Quinn's heart were in overdrive.

"How does it feel to sing on a Broadway stage?" Quinn asked, smiling when Rachel's face lit up. They both finished their meals and were now on their second cup of coffee. "And to top it off, haven't you just finished filming a movie?"

Rachel bobbed her head up and down as she bounced on her seat. "Yes! Mainstream media is great and it puts my name out there, but Broadway really is my true love. I'm hoping to come back one day, when this entire hubbub about movies and television shows are done. But yes!" She let out a breath, relaxing against her chair. "Broadway is lovely. But I should never forget my roots."

"I was there you know," Quinn blurted out, chastising herself for her own admission. "Spring Awakening, off-Broadway opening night. A-actually I went to every single one of your opening nights. And closing nights too." She saw Rachel's face, one of surprise. "You were amazing."

"Why didn't you say something?" Rachel said, covering Quinn's hand with her own. "You could've visited me!"

"I wanted to…" Quinn admitted, turning her palm up to lock her fingers with Rachel's briefly. "But I didn't think you'd want to see me."

"Quinn," the singer admonished with a shimmer in her eye. "I would always love to see you."

Not for the first time, Quinn believed the gentle words that left Rachel's lips.

/

Rachel and Quinn found themselves in front of Rachel's apartment after more than two hours of talking about the past two years. As Rachel searched her purse for her keys, Quinn rocked against the balls of her feet, watching her. Finally procuring her keys, Rachel faced Quinn with a pleasant grin on her face.

"Call me soon, okay?" Rachel ordered her with a stern glare. Quinn chuckled and held her hands up in arrest. "I'm not joking, Quinn!"

"I will," Quinn promised.

"Oh, hey baby!" Someone called out from the far end of the sidewalk. Rachel looked beyond Quinn's head and the blonde spun around to see a tall, scruffy man jogging towards them. He ran up to Rachel and pecked her on the lips with a loud smacking noise before Quinn could even look away. When he pulled back, Rachel glanced at Quinn whose face remained neutral, a small smile plastered on for effect.

"Where have you been this morning? I missed you?" Quinn finally recognized him as Vince, Rachel's co-star from her new movie. His hand moved to caress the swell of Rachel's hips, and that's when Quinn almost lost it.

"I'll talk to you soon Rachel." She said, her speech tumbling out of her lips in a rush. She flashed Rachel a brighter smile before clenching her fists and power-walking away. Quinn heard Rachel call her name, but opted to ignore it. Who was she kidding, anyways? Of course Rachel was in a relationship! Quinn's chuckle came off as morose and bitter as she rode the bus to her apartment. There was no way in hell she would wait for someone like Quinn!

Slamming the door of her apartment, she slumped on the couch and covered her eyes with her forearm. Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she raised it to her cheek, letting out a grunt as her opening greeting.

"Quinn, Quinn!" Rachel was shrieking in the other line. "It wasn't—I need to tell you something!"

"Rach," Quinn chuckled while trying to bury the impeding moments of loss welling inside her chest, like some volcanic explosion waiting to happen. "You don't have to explain anything to me."

"Will you just listen?" Rachel demands and Quinn found herself conceding. "Vince and I are just dating purely for public relations. I-I don't feel anything for him, do you hear me?"

There was only one word that could describe Quinn's feelings, and it was of relief. "Really..?"

"Yes," she heard Rachel's firm tone. "So don't worry, okay?"

Quinn froze and clenched her fist around her phone. _Worry about what, exactly? _But instead of asking Rachel the question in her mind, she steered the conversation into something else; something more pleasant—something that didn't involve fake boyfriends or the threat of Quinn's last chance dangling by a thread above her head, waiting for the string to collapse, only to drop her to the nether.


	3. Chapter 3

_Does it count as a filler if it's faberry interaction?_

* * *

><p>The past few weeks, Quinn remembered just how much she missed Rachel, and not only for her romantic company. The singer's happiness was infectious, her laughter, spread like a virus. Being around Rachel, Quinn had never been happier. To Quinn, hanging out with Rachel was enough. She had no ulterior motives, no conniving plans to win her back.<p>

Who was she kidding? Not _yet_, at least.

Rachel and Quinn were sitting on the leather loveseat in Rachel's apartment; some ancient film from the 20's playing in the widescreen. They were both leaning against the armrests, legs a tangled mess. Every so often, Quinn would turn her head just enough to catch Rachel nibble her lip at the scenes that occurred. Quinn returned her attention to the film, only to see the forlorn lovers wrapped in an embrace.

"Hey Rach, what are we watching again?" Quinn leaned towards the brunette and spoke in a whisper. "And wow, these scenes are cheesy."

"Hush!" Rachel hissed, wiping her eyes free of invisible tears. "This is the best part!"

"I'm sure…" Quinn muttered, taking a throw pillow and hugging it to her chest. She tried to watch the screen again but it was too painful that she flinched at the sight.

"Why don't you appreciate these romantic films from the past, Quinn?" Rachel asked, her eyes never losing the glint from the light of the television. "You write about love a lot, so why do you find this movie to be subpar to your tastes?"

"There has to be more to love than _that_…" Quinn pointed at the screen as the male lead ravished the female lead's neck. "Seriously! Didn't you hear the outlandish speech and all that crock?" Quinn shook her head in disbelief at Rachel's affronted expression. "Rachel, if a guy that treats you like you're just some wife to be kept in a kitchen started saying all these flowery sentences to make it up to you, you'd slap him in the face."

Rachel pursed her lips as she thought about it. "He's just making it up to you through his speech. Even I say it's not enough." Quinn continued. "Look at him! He thinks he can say his piece and then he's free to take her against the wall?"

"It's supposed to be two lovers reuniting after their explosive fight that threatened to rip them apart!" Rachel argued, flailing her feet and kicking the blonde in the process. Quinn laughed and gripped Rachel's ankles, keeping her still. "It's romantic!"

"What, arguing?" Quinn retorted with a smirk. "Do you honestly think that? I thought romanticism was supposed to be about good feelings? About being together for the sake of giving the one you love that emotion that makes them feel as if they are the only ones that matter in this Earth? Being a romantic is an art. It's more than words and actions to make up for past mistakes. It's meant to keep us true to the one we love." She smoothed her hand against Rachel's calves and stared at the singer. "Right?"

Under Quinn's focused stare, Rachel's face reddened. "B-but it's about overcoming differences and letting love prevail!"

"Rachel… If you have to go through all that bullshit because you and your man have these giant arguments all the time, I really don't think it's worth it. Look!" Quinn pointed at the television once more. "They didn't talk about it, there's no form of compromise! He just thinks he's right all the time. That's not romantic at all!"

The brunette palmed her cheeks and turned to face the television once more. "I guess you know more about it than I do."

Quinn leaned back against the armrest and sighed. "You provoke it out of me."

Her neck spun so fast and so hard that it cricked painfully loud. Only then did Quinn realize what she said. "I-I mean…"

Rachel shot up and walked towards the sliding glass door that overlooked New York, while Quinn sat still on the couch, cursing her inhibitions when it came to the girl. The brunette returned with two books, and Quinn immediately recognized them as World of Glass, her novel; and Technicolor Dreaming, a short story collection.

"Since you're famous and all..." Rachel trailed off as she sat on Quinn's feet. She dropped the books on the blonde's lap and grinned. "Can I have an autograph?"

Quinn scoffed and gawked at her. "Are you crazy? Wait, no. Don't even answer that. I'm not signing these for you."

"But Quinn…" The writer turned her head to avoid falling into the trap that was the famous Rachel Berry pout. "Aww, please? Pretty please, with sprinkles and marshmallows on top?"

A grunt escaped Quinn as she snatched the books from her lap. "I hate you."

"No you don't!" Rachel giggled, nudging Quinn's legs with her shoulder. "Come on, if you sign both I'll give you one of my headshots! We'll trade."

Quinn huffed and reached for the pen in Rachel's fist. "I only get one?"

Rachel rolled her eyes and slapped Quinn's arm. "Fine, two."

"Do I get to pick which picture you get to sign?"

"You know what? I think it would've been less of a hassle if I just bought the autographed ones from Amazon." Rachel groaned, slumping against Quinn's knee. She rested her chin against the bone of Quinn's knee caps as they stared one another down. "You're so stubborn!" She snatched the books from the blonde, who yanked them out of her grasp. "Hey!"

"I'll sign them, don't worry!" She cackled. "I just like teasing you."

"I'm sure…" Rachel grumbled.

Quinn cracked open World of Glass and levelled the flyleaf. "You know, it's not as exciting when you watch me sign it." She remarked, cocking her brow at Rachel who was staring at her.

"Fine!" She giggled standing up and walking to her desk again. "I'll just get the headshots that I owe you, hmph!"

In quick movements, she signed World of Glass and Technicolor Dreaming before Rachel returned. She handed the books back to Rachel whose face lit up. She opened the front cover and her eyes ghosted over the ink that was permanently imbued into the book. It read:

_Remember that time when I told you that you're the mother of my words?  
><em>_ It's still true._

_ With love,  
><em>_ Quinn Fabray_

Quinn watched Rachel's reaction, fear bursting inside her chest when she saw her bite her lip. Rachel's bangs covered her eyes, and her expression was indistinguishable. She reached for the tanned hand that gripped the book's spine, hoping that she didn't overstep anything. "Rach?"

"Would you like to go for a walk, Quinn?" Rachel blurted out, a flame brewing in the back of her pupils. Quinn's confusion was apparent, but she nodded anyways. "We need fresh air, don't you think? I think we do! Come on, let's go!"

She was yanked off the couch and pushed towards the foyer where she slipped on her shoes, still bewildered at Rachel's sudden mood change. She was still talking about walking around Central Park and finding some ice cream and feeding the ducks, only to stop her ranting abruptly when a tepid summer breeze smacked them on the face.

"Hey, are you okay?" Quinn asked, trailing after Rachel's rapid gait. "Rachel, what—"

They reached Central Park and that's when Rachel slowed down. Quinn walked beside her, a hand's width kept them apart. Again, Quinn asked what was wrong.

"We had to leave, or else I would've done something I'm not sure we both agree on," was Rachel's curt reply. Quinn's eyebrows shot up and she cleared her throat. Small children ran around them, chasing after one another, and not for the first time, Quinn imagined some semblance of a future.

That's when Rachel's underlying message hit her.

As Rachel ranted off about future Broadway shows and projects that she would love to do, Quinn pocketed her fists and relaxed at the mere insinuation that yes, Rachel still has feelings for her. Sure, they might be particles or atoms, even… But that meant it existed. Quinn smiled and geared herself up for the gold rush that was bound to happen any day.

* * *

><p><em>I daresay their comfort levels around each other has increased, yes? And I've been wondering. Should I focus on posting Covered in Rain or post my other budding faberry fanfic as well? I'm leaning towards 'no new ones until CiR' but you know, thoughts are appreciated and whatnot.<em>


	4. Chapter 4

_Ugh. Fucking finally! I'm so sorry it took aeons to complete. But well, here it is. I'm trying to write for Covered in Rain again instead of the oneshots because I do miss this verse. Also, I've been playing Assassin's Creed II so... I might lag on the updates. Sorry! But I'll try, I swear!_

* * *

><p>The heels of Quinn's flats tapped against the swirled marble floor as she made her way down the hallway of the posh building. Truth be told, she had no idea where she was, except that she should be in Room 529 before ten-thirty. She pressed the elevator button to head to the fifth floor, only to meet Anna in the commodious elevator shaft. Her editor slash agent beamed at Quinn and pulled her in so they could head to the conference room together.<p>

"How have you been these past few weeks?" Anna asked, voice brimming with interest. "You have no idea how proud I am to hear that you are a part of Time 100!"

"I do have an idea," Quinn grinned at the woman she saw as her mentor. Anna was the only one who encouraged her craft, the only one to be there for her when the words seemed to be congested in some faraway artery in Quinn's heart. Anna was more supportive the past two years than Quinn's own mother of twenty something. Quinn always remembered to send Anna chocolates and a personally-written card every Mother's Day. "But you do know that I won't be here without you, right?"

"Oh hush," Anna beamed, squeezing Quinn's hand in hers. "You're talented. You would've made it in some way or another. I just got lucky that I found you."

Quinn shook her head in disbelief. When the elevator bell rang, Anna pulled Quinn out of the shaft and headed towards the end of the hallway. Judging from the editor/agent's pace and gait, she was excited. This only caused Quinn to become more and more curious about what was about to happen.

"Quinn, remember when I told you that World of Glass is having a movie?" Anna stopped in front of Room 529, where a white piece of paper was taped to the door. It read: 'Executive Meeting: World of Glass'. "Well…"

"Oh no way…" Quinn murmured, her eyes widening "No way!"

"Yes!" Anna trilled as she bounced on the balls of her feet. "This is your first—but definitely not the last—executive meeting!"

Quinn took a deep breath and palmed her forehead. "Wow, okay. I-I need to calm down."

Anna chuckled and patted her on the back. "Well, hurry up! We can't be late!"

"I'm calm."

"Already?"

"Anna, please!" Quinn whined, causing the elderly woman to laugh. With a flourish, Anna pulled the door open and ushered the bewildered Quinn inside. The room held a handful of people, the desks and the chairs were pushed to one end. A short man with small spectacles stood up and approached Anna and Quinn.

"So you're Quinn, eh?" He demanded his voice gruff. He toyed with is bare chin as he stared at Quinn up and down. "Huh, definitely more attractive in person than in those writer magazines you forced me to read." He told Anna. "My name's Marcus and I am your chief director, eh? I dunno if Anna told'cha this but we've already worked out the general idea of what the movie's gonna be. Just need you around for formalities' sake, ya know? It might be your book, but this is _my_ movie. I get the final say in everythin'."

Quinn's eyebrow twitched in mild annoyance but said nothing. He led Anna and Quinn to the table where they met the rest of the 'important people' as Marcus dubbed them. He shuffled around a bunch of papers and pushed a high stack of thick photo papers to the middle of the desk.

"'kay, now…" Marcus cleared his throat and shot a glare towards Quinn. "The angel character in your book… She's a brunette, eh?" Quinn nodded. "Righto, so. These women right here," he slammed his palm against the heap of photos. "They're the ones who want to audition cuz their manager said so, or they just want to for kicks. Doesn't matter to me. Anyways. I want to see your approval for the appearance first, then we'll call 'em in for their audition eh?"

"Sure," Quinn said, and Marcus began to hold up headshots of famous actresses, and some not so famous ones. Discussions sparked between the casting directors and Marcus and Quinn, who both can't seem to agree with the directors' decisions.

"Her eyes are too light," Quinn complained.

"Them cheek bones are too damn high." Marcus grumbled.

The casting director was prepared to throw in the towel when Marcus' fingers hesitated in picking up the next candidate. "Smite me with the Hand of God Quinn, if we don't agree on this one right here." Marcus held up the headshot and Quinn almost choked while she sipped her apple juice.

"We definitely agree on this one." Quinn said firmly. She turned to the directors who nodded their head in understanding. The writer reached for the headshot and placed it in front of her, fingertips ghosting against the girl's features.

"Rachel Berry is definitely a great choice, Fabray." One of the casting directors said.

"I know…" Quinn murmured with a ghost of a smile.

"Great, that's all of 'em and we have…" Marcus looked at the pile of 'yes' and spread them out before him. "We have twelve girls lined up for the role of the angel, eh? That's a pretty good count."

"Seeing as you two wouldn't agree with us," one of the casting people hissed. "We have more experience than you two combined! We can spot talent light years away, you know!"

"How, when these are just damn pictures?" Marcus rolled his eyes as he rubbed his naked chin. "'sides, this is my movie."

"And it's my book." Quinn threw in.

Marcus guffawed and slapped Quinn's shoulder blades. "Atta girl! Now, for the protagonist. I don't recall her physical features ever being described."

"That's because it wasn't." Quinn said with a smile. She was relieved to find an ally in Marcus, if only to help her combat against the casting directors' horrible and sleazy choices. Because, excuse me, World of Glass is no romance novel-turned-flick, thank you very much!

"Hmm, that makes things a wee bit difficult then," the chief director sighed. "Got any ideas for her general appearance? How about hair colour?"

"She could be anything, I guess." Quinn shrugged. "I haven't really thought about it much."

"The protagonist could have black hair!"

"Or-or a redhead?"

"Long hair or short hair?"

"Definitely long hair."

"What about body type? Ever decide on a body type?"

"Shut up, eh?" Marcus yelled over the hubbub of voices that didn't belong to him or to Quinn. "I'm thinkin' of makin' the protagonist a bit blonde, like you. So that she and the angel can be contrastin' ya know? And seeing as the angel was described as elegant and poised and similar to some woodland queen, I'm thinking of making the blonde have short hair." He glared pointedly at the directors who had their mouths gapped open. "A bookish sort of blonde. Can you see it?"

"Definitely!" Quinn beamed. "That would be perfect, I think!"

"Great!" Marcus leaned back against her leather seat and rubbed her bare chin. "Right, so hunt about for blondes who have short hair or are willing to chop it off by next week, ya hear? Auditions for the angel will be two weeks from now." He held out his hand and Quinn immediately took it. "Looks like we're gettin' along well aren't we, Quinn?" Marcus said with a boyish grin that caused his face to light up, making him look ten years younger.

"So it seems," Quinn replied with a smile of her own.

They bade their goodbyes and Anna walked with Quinn towards the elevator again. "Is it just me or did Marcus described you when we were talking about blondes as the main character?" Anna whispered into Quinn's ear as they waited for the doors to open. "Bookish blonde with short hair?"

"I didn't realize that…" Quinn hummed and stepped into the elevator. "Is this me projecting myself or something?"

"Don't be silly!" Anna declared. "It just made a lot of sense, I suppose. Anyway, it is time for me to take on my role as annoying agent and pester you for a novel." She looked expectantly at Quinn who reflected her expression. "So?"

"I may or may not be working on something right now…" Quinn trailed off as she rubbed the back of her neck. "But it's totally leaning into the 'not' though…"

"Quinn!" Anna admonished her. "You can't call yourself a writer like this!"

"I know…" Quinn muttered as they exited the elevator. Her heart sank immediately, knowing that Anna was right. How can she call herself a writer when she's not _writing?_ "I'll try to write tonight."

"Not 'try', you will." Anna said, squeezing Quinn's shoulders. "Do some writing exercises. Get the blood pumping. You know how it's detrimental to keep both your body and mind fit."

Quinn nodded her head and hugged Anna, who returned her hug with equal enthusiasm. "I'll do just that. Thank you, Anna."

"I'll be waiting!"

/

Books and journals were strewn all over the floor as Quinn rummaged through her shelves for some fragment of inspiration to assault her senses. Right now, she would settle writing about anything, may it be the mess she was making or the way New York looked in the back of her eyelids. She wiped the dust from the stack of books that she arranged in a neat pile. She was about to pull out Catching Fire when a small black Moleskine fell from between the Hunger Games trilogy.

Quinn sat on the floor and leaned her back against the wall, taking the journal with her. The spine was still crisp and the headband wasn't frayed. Unsnapping the elastic, Quinn ran her fingers against the leaves before stopping at the first page. It read:

'_These Words Are For You'_

Her head thudded against the dry wall when the emotions from long ago filled her. It was her journal from when she and Rachel became official; from that night, when she found Rachel sitting across the lake, patiently waiting, until Quinn reached her. Metaphorically, of course. Quinn still recalled the day she met Rachel Berry, singing her lungs on the off-Broadway stage for her audition.

Quinn dreaded to flip the pages, but she knew that she should. Taking a deep breath, she turned the endpaper and was instantly met with black and white and pale yellow. Words. Words about Rachel, of Rachel, for Rachel. Words that Quinn always wanted to say; messages to the world that applied to her emotional bond with the singer. She tried to fight back the tears as she read from the beginning. Their story. Theirs. Rachel and Quinn's.

She bolted up from the floor and straight to her desk, where her Royal Arrow sat. Old school, she knew, but it helped her simulate black nights and candlelit rooms that reflected her loneliness. With the Moleskine on her lap and a specific brunette in mind, down to the very atom and molecule, Quinn wrote.


	5. Chapter 5

_Whoops, I've been negligent! Damn, and I thought I'd be updating more often since it's summertime. But I apologize. At least I finished playing Assassin's Creed II?_

* * *

><p>It was at six in the morning when Quinn received a phone call from Rachel.<p>

Groggy from a long night of what Quinn believed to be novel-writing and thinking about her stance with Rachel, she pawed against her bedside table for her cellphone. Upon finding it, she snapped it open and let out a gruff method of greeting, resulting in a flurry of words and noises from the other end. Rachel, she figured. No one else would dare call her this early.

"What'chu wan' tho' Raysh?" Quinn asked her mouth buried into the soft pillow. "'s too early!"

"No it's not!" Rachel exclaimed. "It is the perfect time to rise and shine, Quinn! Up! Up, I say!"

"Hmmmmm…"

"Quinn, you better not be sleeping on me!" Quinn scowled at the phone in her hand and contemplated hanging up. But she didn't. Because she missed this: Rachel Berry's insanity in the mornings, and her reluctance to wake up whenever Quinn was around. "I need to ask you something! So you better be awake!"

"'m 'wake…"

"No you're not!"

"GAH!" Quinn shouted into the receiver. "Wha's happ'nin'? Promise 'm 'wake, Raysh." To herself, she scowled and thought; _you're lucky I love you._

She heard incessant giggling on the other end, and it only served to make Quinn smile. "I am asking you for a favour. As you know, I am nominated for an award I cannot quite remember at the moment, and I am wondering if you would like to accompany me? Your dress will be paid by yours truly, of course!"

"Wha'?" Quinn asked again, unsure if she was hearing things. "What about Vince?"

"He's currently in Los Angeles for a TV show," Rachel said off-handily. "Would you, Quinn? Would you be my date for the award show, pleeeease?"

"I don't understand why you bother asking when you're going to use that tone with me…" Quinn muttered, sitting up and rubbing her eyes off of sleep. "And I _can_ hear you pout you know!"

"No you can't!" Rachel was brimming with energy, and even if she wasn't in the general vicinity, Quinn was immediately affected by her bubbliness and her warmth. "So, will you? Will you? Oh Quinn, please say you will!"

She rolled her eyes at Rachel's faux desperation. "It depends," Quinn hummed, padding across the hardwood floor to make a pot of coffee. As she measured out the coffee grounds, Rachel went off into her tirade about how it's 'an honour' and a 'once in a lifetime opportunity' so 'you can't miss out, Quinn!' "Will you wear a black dress?"

"That can be arranged, why?"

"No reason…" Quinn smiled and rested the small of her back against the countertop. She pictured Rachel in a short black dress with a patterned bodice and a ruffled skirt, splayed across her lap like feathers. It stopped an inch or two above her knees, showing the universe the most stunning pair of legs known to mankind. Quinn fought the shudder of remembering those legs that seemed to be sculpted by the Hand of God itself, wrapped around her waist, forbidding her to go anywhere.

/

After a day spent lounging around her apartment and writing in the oddest places like in the linen closet, under the dining table and upside down on her bed, Quinn received a text message from Rachel that announced her arrival in her apartment complex. The blonde rang her up and was met by the brunette holding up a box of Thai takeout and a stack of movies in the other hand.

"I was not aware that you were coming over." Quinn said as Rachel pushed her way into the apartment. She walked about as if she owned the place—half-owned, at least. She cleared the coffee table, arranged the pillows on the couch and sat in front of the television to put in a disc. Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street.

"Oh, were you busy?" Rachel asked with her attention focused on the television set, skipping through the previews and starting the movie immediately. She dimmed the lights and plopped down on the couch and began to eat, while Quinn stood there, staring at her with a raised brow. "What if I said I was busy?"

"Then I'd stop the movie." The brunette grinned. "Here, I bought your favourite spring rolls."

With this, Quinn lit up and catapulted herself beside Rachel, taking the cardboard box and munched away, as the film unveiled itself before them.

As the movie rolled on by, Quinn finished the small box of spring rolls and moved on to the other boxes Rachel brought. "What would you do if an evil magistrate falsely accused me of a crime so he could woo you to become his?" Rachel asked as she sipped her tea. "Would you succumb?"

Quinn laughed and shook her head. "Rach, no. I prefer girls, for one."

"But what if he's a hunk like Alan Rickman?" Rachel pointed out.

"Either way," Quinn rolled her eyes but she was still smiling. "Even if he's a hunk like Alan Rickman, I would loathe him if he took you away from me. I would never learn to love him if he was the most charming man on earth. Besides," she shrugged and nibbled on a stalk of broccoli. "…for him to take you away from me would mean that you would have to be mine."

Rachel bit her lip and glanced at Quinn. "Let us assume that I am yours, and you are mine."

The blonde smiled and bit at her spring roll. "Then I'd wait for you. You know that."

"I do know," Rachel whispered, her voice was thick, and Quinn turned to look at her. Their eyes glimmered with emotion and from the light of the television. Their subconscious grabbed the best of them as fingers found soft skin and soft skin found hands. Flesh melding into one another, Rachel rested her head against Quinn's shoulder. "I'm waiting, still."

"But Vince—"

"—is purely for occupational purposes." Rachel interrupted. "Which reminds me… Whatever happened to Charlie?"

"We have a truce," Quinn responded, ignoring the constant thrumming of her heart. It made her stomach uneasy as Rachel's skin was still against hers. "He figured it would be impossible for both of us to be happy if we fought all the time." Rachel's hand tightened around hers and she sighed. "So he still exists. He just doesn't want to take over anymore." She squirmed away for a bit to look at Rachel's features. "How did you do these past two years?"

"I was busy with my career—"

"That's not what I meant," Quinn chastised. "And you know it."

Rachel sighed and rubbed her eyes. "Random people for the first year, and then I met Vince."

Quinn's jaw clenched. "D-did you two…?"

"No!" The brunette shrieked, face aghast. "Oh goodness. No, Quinn!"

"How many?" Quinn asked, and Rachel bit her lip. "How many people, Rachel?"

"I don't know, I didn't count." Rachel mumbled.

"I only slept with three people. For the past two years." Quinn said, looking at the screen instead of Rachel, who she knew appeared shocked. She drew her hand away from Rachel's and rested it on top of her stomach. "Santana and Brittany talked me into it. I didn't mind, but well… I just couldn't carry on like that."

"Why so little?" Rachel asked, and Quinn laughed her response. "I have no game."

"That's not true." The singer insisted. "You're very charming. Tell me the truth, Quinn."

The blonde reached for Rachel's palm once more. She found that she missed the warmth, even if a minute hadn't passed. Quinn toyed with Rachel's knuckles, her fingers, and massaged the thick muscle in the juncture of her thumb and her forefinger. "I couldn't. Every time I tried to sleep with someone, it's like I was cheating on you. I-I know we weren't together or anything…" Quinn gulped and threw a cautious glance towards the girl beside her. "But it just felt as if I'm committing infidelity."

"Did you touch yourself then?"

Quinn's eyes widened. "Err… What?"

"Did you masturbate?"

How a serious conversation turn into such a ridiculous one, Quinn would never understand. She gawked at Rachel, blamed her insane turn of phrase, and then shook her head. "I guess I did."

"Thinking of me?"

Why did Rachel look so… _triumphant?_ Quinn knew there was no use lying. "Clearly."

She was blushing and was willing to burrow herself into a hole free from Rachel's delighted smirk. "It's perfectly healthy, Quinn! There's no use fighting our bodies' desires, after all. Especially if there's no one around to help you quench it."

"You'd say that, seeing as you didn't have any trouble finding help."

The sudden change on Rachel's expression was that of hurt and offense. "Did you just insinuate that I am—?" She gathered her things and shot up. "I'm leaving."

"Shit—sorry!" Quinn yelped, grabbing for Rachel's arm and tugging her back down to the sofa. "I didn't mean it to come out like that! I didn't mean that!"

"Yes you did." Rachel insisted with a scowl. "You think I'm easy."

"I really don't," Quinn argued, her hand never leaving Rachel's. It only tightened around the warm palm, as it reflected the firmness of her grip. "It's stupid, because I feel jealous over those people you slept with even if I'm not entitled to you." She shook her head, chastising herself. "The people you had these relations with, they didn't know you. Probably didn't know how amazing your voice is when you sing. They only wanted your body, which, in fairness, is beyond gorgeous…" Quinn gulped and Rachel smiled at her. "But not _you_. Not Rachel. A-and it didn't matter that there's someone who wants you every minute of every day when they're not even close to where you are."

"W-what?" Rachel blinked in confusion. "Who?" Quinn remained silent, staring far ahead, watching Sweeney Todd shave off beards while whistling. "Quinn?"

"Yes Rachel?" She quipped.

"Do you still… I mean…"

"Most definitely," Quinn said, still not looking at Rachel.

"R-really?" Rachel gasped, her fingers tightening ever so slightly around Quinn's, but to the blonde it was enough. It was comparable to a mountain of reassurances that the tiny squeeze came crashing over her head. Relief pooled within Quinn's abdomen and she tried to repress a happy noise that came out of her throat.

"I do, still. But we both know it's not our time yet."

Rachel huffed and Quinn grinned. Affection coursed through her, and even if she wanted nothing more but to hold the brunette in her arms for as long as time would allow, she shouldn't. Quinn should have better self-control. "If not now, then when?" Rachel demanded.

"Who knows," Quinn teased, poking Rachel's cheek softly. She wanted the girl, there was no doubt about that, but it wasn't enough. "I want to be completely honest without you before—before doing something about it, okay? There's more to us than love, Rachel. Patience is what we both need I want to uncover it all before offering all of me to you."

"Okay," Rachel said. It was a simple response but with it, Quinn knew she stood a chance.

Quinn squeezed Rachel's shoulder and smiled. "Thank you for understanding."

* * *

><p><em>Oh Quinn. Girl's her spanking new brand of weirdo, I swear.<em>


End file.
